


Huntr

by LadyDrace



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, First Dates, First Meetings, Flirting, Getting Together, M/M, Online Dating, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-06 14:07:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12212823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDrace/pseuds/LadyDrace
Summary: “Tired of your hook-ups not being in the know? TryHuntrfor all your post-hunt encounters!”





	Huntr

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Naminia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naminia/gifts).



> Another Sam/Chris story for the wonderful Naminia! Thank you!
> 
> Betaed by the best bro to ever bro, my bud Rita. <3

At some point – Sam isn't sure when – he finally has enough. It feels like every single person he dares to care about ends up dead, and he spends a long time wondering if maybe relationships just aren't for him.

 

But then the answer comes to him, in the most unlikely of places.

 

“ _Huntr. The best way to find a date without endangering innocent lives!”_ the ad says, and Sam stares at it, marveling at the simplicity of it.

 

A _dating app_. Of all things.

 

It's such an obvious solution Sam wonders why he hasn't thought of it before. He just needs to start looking among people who can protect themselves. Because as long as Dean keeps them in the hunting business Sam will never be able to settle down. So if he's going to find someone for himself they need to understand his lifestyle, and be able to watch out for themselves when he's not around. And also possibly be accepting of obsessive and often hypocritical family members.

 

Yeah, Sam has no illusions about the kind of baggage he's hauling around. So to avoid any misunderstanding he makes sure his profile text reflects that.

 

_Hi, I'm Sam, and I'm tired of innocent people dying on me all the time. And if I don't talk to someone other than my obnoxious brother at least every few days I'm definitely gonna lose my mind some day soon._

 

He adds some pictures he feels give a decently varied impression of him. One dorky pose with his favorite gun. One with Dean giving him a noogie, because he might as well prepare any potential dates from the get go. One where he's at least trying to look nice in clean jeans and a button up. And one shirtless, because he does a lot of crunches to have abs like these, and he wants to show them off, so sue him.

 

At first he gets the usual thirsty messages, clearly only because of the shirtless picture, but he deletes those without a second look. That's not what he's after. He's not entirely sure what he _is_ after, but anyone who starts a conversation with naked breasts or their dick next to a remote control is _not_ it.

 

But then he gets an interesting message. Well, the message itself is a very generic and a little awkward, but something about it is appealing.

 

_ArgentumCanis: “Hi. I'm Chris, and I'd like to get to know you better, if that's okay.”_

 

His profile reveals him to be somewhat older, probably early forties, but age difference is not a deterrent to Sam. The somewhat cheesy username does make him roll his eyes, though.

 

 _Father. Widower. Arms trader. Learned from my mistakes,_ Chris' profile says. It's vague, but he has nice pictures, and his face looks kind, if a little sad. Sam can relate.

 

So he writes back, Chris replies, and before long they talk every day.

 

“ _I don't know what I'm doing,”_ Chris writes at one point. _“I haven't been on a date since I was 17.”_

 

“ _You're doing great so far,”_ Sam writes back, and smiles at his phone when he gets a heart emoji in return. Yeah, Chris is definitely doing fine.

 

Not least of all because, despite his bare-bones profile and subdued pictures, he's a really fun guy. He's warm, enjoys banter, and every so often he'll make off-hand comments that leave Sam in no doubt that he knows what he's doing. Hunting or otherwise. It's thrilling on several levels.

 

So there's no hesitation on Sam's part when Chris casually mentions he'll be in Kansas on a hunt in the near future.

 

“ _Wanna meet up?”_ Sam asks, and Chris replies in seconds.

 

“ _I'd like that. Are you sure that's what you want, though? Not afraid to be seen with a fossil?”_

 

“ _Don't be an idiot. And don't think I'm gonna let you skip the creature tests just because you're an old fart,”_ Sam types, and laughs when the reply comes in.

 

“ _Wouldn't dream of it, squirt. And I'm packing my own testing kit as we speak.”_

 

And that's that.

 

Sam drives for a day, not about to bring anyone to the bunker, no matter how much he likes them, and Chris shows up at the motel they arranged to meet at looking good enough to eat. He takes the silver blade from Sam with warm, calloused hands and passes him one of his own, and it feels almost intimate to shed blood and touch the various test items while sharing lingering looks.

 

Sam wants to do the whole date thing, though, so they go for coffee. Which then becomes dinner. Which then becomes drinks. They talk about hunting, their families, the good and the bad and everything in-between, and the hours pile on as they talk through the night.

 

Chris is charming, competent and, frankly, pretty damn hot. And he seems adorably worried that Sam is somehow gonna come to his senses at some point and decide not to date someone that much older.

 

“Chris... lemme tell you something,” Sam says eventually. “When you've lost as many people as I have – like I'm pretty sure a lot of hunters have – you start to focus on the important things. You gotta look at the big picture, you know?” he says, fingers drawing idle patterns in the condensation on his beer glass.

 

“Yeah. I know,” Chris says slowly, eyes following the movements of Sam's fingers. “I really do know.”

 

“Then why are we still sitting here?” Sam asks daringly, and before he knows it they're back in the motel room.

 

Much later, when they're naked and exhausted, Sam entertains himself by running his fingers through all of Chris' body hair. Sure, Sam can grow a decent beard and at least _some_ chest hair, but he prefers to stay smooth himself. He enjoys hair on his partners, though, and Chris has plenty to play with.

 

“Don't get lost in the woods, now, kiddo,” Chris rumbles as Sam scratches through his chest hair, and Sam yanks one out just to be a jerk.

 

“Are you telling me I should leave breadcrumbs around your nipples?”

 

“Don't you dare,” Chris warns, and reaches down to pinch Sam on the ass.

 

“Hey, you started it, asshole!” Sam cries, and it soon devolves into something of a wrestling match. No matter how much Chris likes to mention his age Sam sure doesn't feel it, and they're pretty evenly matched. Sam could probably win on the length of his limbs alone, but he's well-laid and lax, and doesn't fight that hard. So when Chris ends up pinning him, Sam is exactly where he wants to be.

 

“You let me win,” Chris accuses, and Sam grins.

 

“Nah. You wore me out.” He winds his arms around Chris' neck. “You were just putting up a front of being old and decrepit so you'd catch me off guard with all the orgasms, weren't you?”

 

Chris chuckles and leans in for a kiss, his beard scratching deliciously across Sam's already reddened skin. “Sure. We can go with that.”

 

“You're sly, _Argentum Canis._ Silver Dog. More like: _silver fox_ ,” Sam murmurs and gets another warm huff of laughter.

 

“What does that make you, _Win83_? A whippersnapper?”

 

Sam shrugs. “Whatever turns you on.” He follows it up with a waggle of his eyebrows, and Chris pinches him again. That can't stand, obviously, so Sam starts the wrestling again, and this time he uses everything he has to his advantage.

 

It doesn't seem to bother Chris in the least, and, by the time he's pinned, his eyes are heated and he's not fighting back at all.

 

“I wore you out, huh?” he pants, and Sam grins wolfishly.

 

“You did. But, like you enjoy pointing out, I do have youth on my side.”

 

Chris huffs. “You make me sound like a cradle-robber.”

 

“Then maybe we should stop talking about age, hmm?” Sam suggests, and there's not a lot of talking at all after that.

 

* * *

 

“Dude, what's up with that goofy look on your face?” Dean asks the next day, when Sam wanders in, feeling relaxed and happy in a way he hasn't been in months. Sam doesn't answer, just shrugs his jacket off slowly and takes his time unlacing his boots.

 

Dean watches him for a while and then his eyes widen. “Oh my god, _you got laid!_ Fucking finally!” he cries, punching Sam in the shoulder because he's a walking macho stereotype. “Was it the chick at the travel agency? She was into you, right?”

 

“I guess,” Sam says agreeably. “But no. Dating app.”

 

The dismay on Dean's face is nothing short of priceless. “Aw, man, _internet dating?_ What the hell, you don't need that! What's wrong with picking someone up in a bar, anyway?”

 

“So... _so_ many things, Dean,” Sam says, and walks away before anything can ruin his good feelings.

 

As soon as he's is in his room he tosses his duffel on his bed and checks his phone. There's a message from Chris, because of course there is.

 

“ _Miss you already, Whippersnapper.”_

 

“ _You too, Silver Fox,”_ Sam writes back, and adds a few hearts just because he feels like it.

 

Maybe he can convince Dean to look for a case in sunny California sometime soon...

 

End.

 

 

 


End file.
